


Shadows Dancing for the Sun

by RunicHind



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4115911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunicHind/pseuds/RunicHind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl is cursed to see only the day. Another girl shall die if the sunlight ever touched her skin. Will a cure for their curses be found, or will they be forced by fate to be forever apart? This is the tale of Willow and Tara set in the world of Valdemar and in the shoes of Sunsinger and Shadowdancer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Be Careful What You Say

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer - There will be angst in this story. I don't own Valdemar, the original idea of Sunsinger and Shadowdancer from the Heralds of Valdemar series, nor do I own characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, most unfortunately. • Feedback- I would love feedback on this.

There was a time when magic ruled the world

There was a time of sorcery

There was a time when dreams were commonplace

A time of myth and wizardry.

Harken now, lend your ears to me.

A wondrous tale I will tell to thee

-Valdemar by Golden Bough and Mercedes Lackey

Sunlight was harsh and unforgiving even in the mornings, but it was viewed by many as unbearable when it reached its zenith at mid-day. Most people would simply grumble in discontent but still continue about their work, but then again…Sheila Rosenberg was far from most people. The heat brought the tavern worker to make the long, arduous trek up the steep hill in order to get some water from the well perched there. This well seemed usual to most, and so perhaps her ignorance to its special properties could be excused rather than her arrogance being the source of the woes she would traced back to these few moments of rest against the cool stone of the well.

Sheila Rosenberg turned her gaze to the rippling waters of the well and studied her reflection as she drank from her recently filled cup. Her face was one of a highly attractive lady in her prime of life, the deeply tanned tone of her skin making her status as a member of the lower, peasant class distinct. Only those women of the peasant class would actually be out in the sunlight working during the day, after all. Her clothes, those belonging to a bar matron, were a little less worn than the usual fare though that was to be expected after having to purchase new clothing following the first few months of her pregnancy.

Madame Rosenberg was pregnant and partially disgruntled about it since it certainly cut into her night-time activities. She was still young and impetuous, so perhaps her unwillingness to immediately leap into the role of matron was more than understandable. It was this agitation with her current condition as well as hormones and the oppressive heat that drove Sheila to make a simple statement beside this seemingly innocent, normal well.

"The day is for fools. This child will be better off learning to sleep through the daylight and only enjoying the embrace of the night."

Words were a dangerous thing to be uttered carelessly, and those words spoken by that well would come to haunt Sheila for the rest of her existence. As it was, however, she turned to return to the tavern without a single thought about the odd shimmer that danced over the surface of the water in the well.

Within five months the time came for the arrival of the child housed in Sheila's womb. The local midwife for the village came as swiftly as she could upon hearing the cry of Ira Rosenberg, and she didn't arrive a moment too soon. The tavern master was shooed out of the hut of a house he and his wife lived in, then the difficult process of labor began in more ardor. The birth itself was not any more difficult than most that the crone had assisted with, but she couldn't mistake the air of something almost enchanted lacing the humid air.

There was something very strange that sent a shock of fear through the midwife once the baby fully emerged from its mother's womb: the child, a little girl, did not utter a single sound. Not a movement was made by the baby even as the midwife tended to the baby's needs the same as she had tended to hundreds of children before this one. Strangely enough there was a pulse and her chest moved with each breath, but her eyes never opened at all.

"Is the baby well, Matron Elena?" an exhausted Sheila asked the midwife with no attempt to conceal the anxiety in her voice. She had been around babies often enough to know that they were rarely silent, especially so soon after birth. Trepidation clenched her heart in its icy fist for she was afraid that her baby, one she had been annoyed to even be pregnant with a few months prior, was either on its way to death's door or already a member of the afterlife.

"She is breathing, her heart is beating, but she remains silent as…" The word she wished to say was obvious, but she had enough tact to leave it unsaid.

"Is this some illness? Will she awaken?" Sheila asked in distress while taking comfort in the arms of Ira Rosenberg after the stocky young man entered the hovel. Dusk had finally settled on the horizon, and it was unwise for anyone to remain outside of an establishment once the protective rays of the sun had ceased to shine.

Just as the midwife was about to inform the Rosenbergs that she herself didn't know, the child's eyes fluttered open followed by yawn as though she had been awakened from some deep slumber. Instinctively she began to cry before being placed in Sheila's arms.

"She seems to be fine though I have to say this smacks of something…unnatural," the crone advised since she had seen more 'unnatural' things in her lengthy life than she would care to expound upon. "Before I leave you to rest and bond with the baby, what have you decided to christen her?"

"Willow. She is Willow Rosenberg," Sheila informed the elder woman without taking her gaze from the baby that was now mysteriously wide awake as soon as the sun dipped from the sky.

The event following the birth of the child could not be brushed from the mind of Matron Elena. All of those in the position of healers and midwives had experience with magic in the capacity of simple hedge witches. Healing and bringing life safely into the world was an act of magic in and of itself after all. Due to this experience with the supernatural, Elena was sensitive to the flow of magic around those items and people effected by it. The flow of magic had been different, more powerful than anything she used on a day-to-day basis. The signature was darker as well, and this vexed the old woman. So, she spent the entire night reviewing her materials for information as to what could have caused the sudden flux in the magical flow. Nothing she read matched the event at all. Her thoughts were drawn away from the conundrum when dawn arrived. Shortly following dawn was a panicked Ira Rosenberg to her door.

"Matron Elena!" the out of breath tavern keeper cried as soon as she answered the door, "It's Willow!"

No further words were necessary to spring the elder woman into action, and she hastily followed Ira back to the hut housing the Rosenberg family. The sight that greeted her made her heart pause in her chest. A stricken Sheila Rosenberg held her baby to her chest, the child completely still despite the commotion around her. Her eyes were closed, and Elena at once thought that she had arrived too late for the small child. That fear was absolved when she noted the slight rising and falling of her chest and felt for herself that there was a pulse.

"What happened?" she inquired calmly of Sheila seeing as Sheila had the child in her arms. If she remained calm then she was positive that the couple would also calm down enough to tell her what had happened.

It seemed her soothing tone of voice did the trick for Sheila took in a deep breath. "She was awake before dawn broke and quite hungry. She went from being hungry to this without any warning."

As Sheila had been speaking, Elena had turned her attention to the flux in the magical flow that surrounded the child. It seemed that what ever was affecting the child was indeed something of the preternatural world. Nothing that she found in her books led her to a conclusion, but she was beginning to have the suspicion that the child had been cursed. Elena looked between the couple with a serious expression as she inquired of them, "Have either of your family lines ever dealt with a curse?"

Both Sheila and Ira looked quite skeptical as they shook their heads. "Magic is something not found in this village often, Matron Elena. You know this."

"Yes, but I have also seen many cases of magic occur here before either of you were born. I shall send a letter to Valdemar so that they may send a sorcerer here to more thoroughly identify what is ailing this child. Until the sorcerer arrives, keep the baby inside at all times."

Elena left the Rosenberg residence to return to her own home in order to send out the letter bound for Valdemar. It was only in Valdemar that they would find a practitioner of magic well versed enough to find a cause and cure for this curse afflicting Willow Rosenberg. With the letter sent by a young man on a swift horse, all Elena could do was wait and pray for the soul of the poor child.

The mage arrived at the small village within a few weeks time, both he and the messenger appearing quite worse for wear. He was a professional, however, and brushed aside his fatigue in order to immediately plunge into this vexing case of the cursed child. The letter that Elena had sent to him had deeply intrigued the mage for he had never seen this sort of a curse before, especially on a newborn child. Every person that he spoke to in the village seemed to have no ill-will toward the Rosenbergs, especially the young and lovely Sheila, so revenge did not seem to be the likely cause of this curse.

"May I please hold the child?" he requested of the worried parents once he had entered their dwelling and made his introductions. Little time was spared for pleasantries when the well-being of a newborn laid in the balance. Reluctantly Sheila handed Willow over to the much elder man who exuded the calm and authoritative air of one who was completely confident in his ability to find a cure for the cursed child. The child made no sound as she was placed into his arms by the mother. Being well-versed in the arcane arts, he immediately knew that this was indeed no ordinary illness. Words that impossible for the others in the room to understand left his lips, and blue glow surrounded his hand. This hand was then slowly moved over the limp body of the still breathing child.

"What is he doing?" Sheila whispered to Elena who had made her way to the home of the Rosenbergs as soon as the mage and the messenger arrived in the village. The elder woman understood Sheila's fears, so she tried to explain what was going on in an effort to easy them.

"He is using his mage-gift go find the source of the curse as well as the effects. It is like what a healer uses to find the specific ailment, only this is specifically for magical afflictions."

Silence the reigned as the mage continued to scan the child, a frown forming on his lips. "I've never seen anything like this," he stated when the glow about his hand dissipated. "She lives, but only by night. That part of this spell is weakening, so she will eventually be awake at all hours rather than merely at night. What is the strongest part of this spell is an inability to withstand the day." The mage handed the child back to the distraught mother.

"Keep her from sunlight always, Mrs. Rosenberg, or else she will die." An audible gasp filled the room, and both parents began to weep. "But fear not, she will be fine as long as she is kept safe from the sunlight. I know not what magic was placed upon her, and I know no one who has the power to undo it. When I return to Valdemar, I will continue to study and converse with my colleagues regarding this matter. If ever we find something that may cure her, then we will come at once. Until then, there is nothing more I can do."


	2. Night stalker

"Darkness has already fallen; if you weren't so useless and caught up in your daydreaming then we could have been back to the keep by now." There was no pause between these words and the actions he took against his eldest daughter. His large hand grabbed her wrist as he hauled her toward the mare that had just been brought from the stables for her. "Quit dawdling and get on it!"

The blonde haired girl didn't lift her head or say a word in retaliation to the berating she was receiving from her father; instead she silently pulled herself up into the saddle of the horse she had ridden to Lord Ravenhawk's keep. Once positioned properly in the saddle, she accepted the reins from the stable boy and nudged her horse to follow her father's gelding. Lady Tara let herself drift into her dream world, a world of myth and magic her mother had told her about before her untimely death. It was only here that Tara was able to find solace from the harsh and unforgiving life she had with her father and her brother Donnie.

"If you didn't look so ragged then Lord Ravenhawk would have accepted our offer to let you marry his eldest son. Now what am I going to do with you, huh? I've damned near run through every noble house that has an eligible son, and all of them reject our offer."

Tara heard only bits and pieces of her father's tirade, used to hearing such cruel words, but she was quite interested when it seemed to cease. She didn't dare raise her head, and instead watched through a curtain of golden blonde hair as her father interacted with what seemed like a beggar woman. Her horse shied as she pulled the mare to a halt behind Lord Maclay's gelding. This was going to be a very short discussion, she knew.

"Please sir, can you not spare a piece of bread for a starving woman?" the gaunt and elderly woman begged of Lord Maclay.

"No, I have nothing for filth such as yourself," he retorted while trying to steer his horse around the woman that had managed to maneuver herself into his path.

"I don't need much, sir, only a crust of bread is all I need" she pleaded again. Her hand grasped the horse's saddle so that she could regain her bearings. This action seemed to cross a line for the sneering man. He proceeded to kick the old woman hard in the chest!

Tara raised her head at this point, wishing to speak on the woman's behalf for the first time in a decade. The old woman's cloak fell from her shoulders, and she transformed right in front of Tara's eyes into a young sorceress. Her hand stretched forward toward Donald Maclay, righteous anger adding to her power. "You would dare strike a woman when she has done nothing to you! Let us see how you enjoy being struck down! May this humble you!"

The sorceress was young and obviously not capable of schooling her impulsive nature, for she immediately set about casting a spell in retribution. Her outstretched hand glowed a bright yellow which she extended toward Lord Maclay. Donald Maclay was a coward of the worst sort: the self-preserving kind. While watching the sorceress in horror, he heard Tara gasp behind him. Not a moment was spared as he grasped the what he could of the girl. The dress she wore tore, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that she would finally fulfill a greater purpose; she would save him from the spell the sorceress was casting.

Tara couldn't find the voice to scream as she was thrust in the path of the sorceress. For a moment she felt warmth spread throughout her body, then everything began to disappear from her line of vision. It was peaceful, this oblivion that she slipped into. The place where her body was, however, was far from peaceful. Lord Maclay didn't tarry to see what befell of his least favorite child; he left her there on the dirt and drove his horse into a gallop in order to get as far away from the scene as possible.

The sorceress knelt beside the girl she had accidentally cursed and checked her pulse.

"Halt there!"

The sorceress rose from her position and turned to the feminine voice calling to her. A thin girl who could just barely be considered a woman was striding toward her. Dark clothing that most likely had been black when it was first dyed adorned her lithe frame, the clothing quite masculine for someone so obviously female. What stood out the most about this girl was not her vibrant red hair, but rather how pale her skin was. It was almost as though she never saw the light of day.

"A Night Stalker!" the sorceress cried as she stumbled in her haste to back away from the approaching girl.

The girl paused then seemed to grin. The sorceress didn't see any fangs, but she was sure that this girl had to be one of them. A dark, shadowy power oozed from her, and that could be the only conclusion the sorceress could reach.

"Well, you caught me," the girl stated slyly, her green eyes shimmering with mirth. It was almost as though she was a cat toying with her prey. "Now, what should I do with you. Since you struck an innocent down with a spell, technically you are fair game. I'll make a deal with you. You give me the girl, and I'll let you go. For now, at least."

The sorceress felt trapped. The night stalker was right; she would be well within the rules of the forest to kill her since she had struck down an innocent. The girl's father had just left her there, so maybe she wasn't quite as innocent as she first thought. In fact, maybe she could spin the tale in a manner that made it justified. As long as this girl wasn't around to say differently, then all would be well.

"Fine, I accept your compromise." She turned and led her horse from where she had hidden it among the thick foliage her magic had supplied.

"What's your name, sorceress, in case I need a favor again."

The sorceress hesitated then decided that it might not be such a bad idea to have a night stalker at her beck and call. "Amy Madison of the Grey Winds School of Sorcery. And you, night stalker?"

The girl hesitated also, though she was doing so for much different reasons. Finally she replied with, "They call me the Shadow Dancer." A silent sigh of relief escaped the girl when Amy Madison seemed to be gone for good.

" A night stalker. Angel and William will absolutely love this. I'll never hear the end of it." She looked down at the girl who had yet to move in the slightest. "Okay, so, I need to get you somewhere safe before an actual night stalker finds you. Oh, and before the sun comes up." Grasping onto the girl's midsection, she proceeded to try to pick her up. She managed to get a foot further down the road before both she and the girl collapsed to the ground.

"Oof! Goddess, you're heavier than you look!" She shifted to sit with her legs drawn up so that she could brush the dirt from her dark trousers. "All right, Willow, think. How can I get her carted off before I keel over as well? The sound of hooves pawing at the ground caught Willow's attention, and she scrambled backwards in a rather graceless manner. "P-P-Pony.." she stammered out, wide green eyes locked on the beast that was nosing toward the fallen girl. Willow continued scrambling, trying desperately to find a suitable weapon against such a formidable beast. What she found was a large stick. It would have to do.

"Back, foul fiend!" she shouted at the beast while swinging the stick in the most intimidating manner that she could manage. It was less intimidating and more spastic. In fact, the horse seemed to be amused at the fact that this girl was swatting flies for it. Willow doubled over while trying to catch her breath. "Had…enough…yet?" she asked. The horse shook her head and walked forward. Willow again scrambled backward, but she halted when she noted that the horse was nudging at the unconscious girl.

"Oh, you want to help her, do you?" Willow turned her gaze heavenward to see how much time they had left to get Tara to a safe place. They didn't have much more than perhaps a candle mark before the sun stated its ascent, so they had to hurry. Sighing heavily, Willow decided that she would only succeed if she worked with the over-sized fleabag. "We can get her to a safe place if we work together, but here are the rules. No biting, got it? My arms are not to be nibbled on since I need those for my line of work. No drawing attention to yourself once we get to the cave. I believe that is all that I can think of at the moment, but I will add to this list as I see fit. Are we in agreement?" The horse nodded her head, and Willow took that as a sign of agreement. The horse knelt down a little to make it easier for Willow to hoist Tara onto her back. "My mother was right, this whole cursed business has driven me mad. Look at me, I'm impersonating a night stalker, drove off a sorceress, and now I'm talking to and making deals with a horse. My life is going down hill, and I'm not even twenty three summers old yet."

The horse's eyes, a hue of blue much like her owners, watched the redhead as she babbled on. It was likely that the mare couldn't understand a word of what the girl was saying, but the fluctuations in tone were so animated that it was entertaining nonetheless. Also, Willow seemed to never run out of air during her tirades. It was a rather impressive feat, even by horse standards. She did finally quiet down when they reached the heart of the forest that housed a den for an animal that had long since abandoned it. Not far from this den was a lake that provided much needed water. The grass and leaves surrounding them would provide excellent foliage for the horse, so it seemed that all three were going to be happy. In fact, given the way that the den was furnished with all the necessities for cooking and creating a fire, it wouldn't be much of a gamble to wager that Willow had been inhabiting the place for some time.

Willow pulled the girl as gently as she could from the saddle and set her on the ground on top of a pallet Willow had made from the skins of various animals she had received from her unsavory acquaintances. Now that Willow had a chance to look at her, she could see that Tara was not much older than herself. Her dress was more ornate than anything Willow had ever worn, and so she was sure that the girl had to have hailed from a much more prosperous family. If the man who had been with her was family, however, then she doubted highly that the girl would want to go back to people willing to throw her at a sorceress to save their own skins.

"You'd think she'd wake up any time now," Willow murmured to herself as she made sure to set up the curtains to keep the sunlight from reaching too far into the den she called home every now and then. A tingle shot up her spine, and she spun around to face the unconscious girl. A soft glow that had to be the closest thing to sunlight that Willow had ever seen enveloped the girl. Transfixed by the sight, she began to walk closer to her. When it stopped, Willow was met with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. The girl's movement snapped her out of her daze, and she stepped back to give her room.

"Where?" she asked, her voice rather hoarse. Her hostess darted around the den to get her some water. Though skeptical at first, Tara accepted the dipper of water and took a sip. It was the freshest, coolest water she had ever tasted. Now that her thirst was quenched, she cast her gaze around her surroundings. It looked like a cave of some sort equipped with all of the necessities. Confusion danced over her features as she turned to face the girl who had offered her water. Unruly and short red hair framed a pallid face given color only by the dirt smudging it. The girl's green eyes were so expressive that she could see and feel the concern radiating from them. Even before she realized it, she found herself at ease with this stranger.

"What do you remember?" her hostess asked once she was sure that her new guest wasn't going to pass out again. After a significant pause due to her attempting to bring her scattered memories into some semblance of order, Tara answered to the best of her abilities.

"I was traveling with my father from Lord Ravenhawk's keep when we were stopped by an elderly beggar woman. My father kicked her away, and she turned into a.." Tara's blue eyes widened as she rose to her feet. "She turned into a sorceress! She cast a spell toward my father and he threw me at her! He.." Emotion caused her voice to quiver, and Tara began to lose her balance. Willow leaped to her feet and gently grasped her waist to keep her from falling over.

"Easy, there. Come on, sit down. So you remember the sorceress? Do you remember anything after that?"

"No, she said something about humbling him then I felt nothing but peace." Willow helped her sit back down, at which point Tara turned back to her. "How did I end up here, exactly? Where did you come from?"

"I was there for the latter portion of it. I don't mean to brag, but I scared off the sorceress so she left you alone."

"How did you manage to do such a feat?"

"She wasn't the best trained sorceress, so she confused me for a night stalker." The redhead grinned cheekily, quite proud of herself for having fooled a sorceress. Her pride began to wane, however, when she noted the blank look she was receiving. "You know, a night stalker, the human-like creatures that go around taking the blood of the living?"

Tara immediately felt ill for having trusted this girl. She escaped a sorceress and her horrible life with her father only to meet her end with a night stalker! Tara stumbled backwards once she was on her feet and reached out to grab the curtain that covered the cave entrance. She pulled it partially aside.

"No!" Willow screamed, pure terror filling her voice as she tried to hide at the very back of the cave. Her body quivered as fear held her captive.

Tara kept her hand on the thick sheet at the mouth of the den, feeling torn now that she had heard such terror come from a supposedly soulless creature. "Why shouldn't I? What was your plan here? Steal me from the sorceress then lull me into a false sense of security only to kill me when the urge strikes you?" Her voice had gained such strength while she was questioning Willow that she scarcely recognized it as her own. For once in her life, she was in control.

"Who said anything about killing you? I said I tricked her into thinking I was a night stalker!" Willow dared to peek from her hiding spot and was immensely relieved when Tara's hand fell from the sheet. She wasn't foolish enough to move from her spot yet however, and continued to speak from there. "I'm not one, really. I just have the same sort of curse as they do. If sunlight touches me then I'll die."

Still wary of her, Tara moved only a step away from the make-shift curtain. "How did that happen? Why did you bring me here, then?"

Willow finally pulled herself from behind a rock and glared at Tara. "What, I'm not allowed to save a damsel in distress?" she spat at Tara. "That was far from a diligent and benign sorceress, so there was no telling what she was going to do to you."

Tara now felt extremely guilty for having questioned her savior and threatened her existence over a misunderstanding. She fixed back the curtain then walked back to the pallet with her head bowed. "I-I'm s-s-sorry for qu-questioning y-y-you. I-I.. I was f-frightened since I-I'm a-a-a-alone now with n-no idea as to wh-wh-wh-where I am o-or what is t-to become of m-me. "

The stammering swiftly dissolved what indignant anger had swelled within Willow's breast. Even a cad such as she did not find pleasure in seeing a lady in such a state of distress. Once checking that she would not be touched by the brilliant rays of sunshine that threatened to penetrate the darkness of her den, Willow moved closer to Tara. "Don't cry, please?" she requested of the blonde sitting across from her. When this didn't cease the tears trekking down Tara's cheeks, Willow began to panic. When the redhead began to panic, she became most verbose.

"Please, don't cry. Crying is never a good thing. Well, except at weddings which I've never been to before since, hello, I can only go to them if they happened at night. For some reason people don't like to have weddings at night, oh no, it has to be all noon or sunset. Like the night is too good for them. Wouldn't a night time wedding ceremony be so much more romantic with the.." Willow snapped her mouth shut with an audible sound, her cheeks flushing from embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I tend to babble needlessly when I get nervous."

Tara couldn't help but smile despite her tears; never in her courtly existence had she heard a person say so many words in such a short span of time. Brushing her hair behind her ears, Tara shifted slightly and self-consciously. "N-no, its f-fine. I-it's a-adorable, really."

Willow tilted her head to the side then grinned, glad that at least she had made Tara smile even if it was at her own expense. "Oh! See? This is what happens when you spend all of your time prowling the night; you forget your manners completely. I'm Willow, Willow Rosenberg." She held out her hand much like she always did when greeting the musicians she worked with on the streets or when meeting some of Angel and William's friends. It didn't dawn on her until she noticed Tara's curious expression that perhaps this was not the wisest of actions. Tara was more amused than offended, and she accepted Willow's hand in the simple handshake. Pain laced up Willow's hand, and the redhead cried out. Tara was terrified that she had hurt Willow and hovered over her, belatedly realizing that she hadn't released Willow's hand. Willow regained her breath and winced while moving her hand.

"Miss Willow, are you all right?" Tara asked, worrying coloring her words clearly. That concern was eased only a margin by the smile she received from her new acquaintance.

"I'm all right. You had magic still buzzing on your skin since you just awakened from that mystical sleep that sorceress put you under. The fact that it stayed on your skin for so long means this wasn't just a quick spell, I'm afraid. No worries, though. I know some people who might be able to get you some help. What was your name?"

"I failed to give it to you in all of this chaos, so you have my apologies, Miss Willow. I'm Tara Maclay."

"Just Willow will be fine," Willow stated before the rest of Tara's response reached her ears. "Maclay? As in Lord Donald Maclay?" Willow squeaked, her green eyes wide. "I apologize, Lady Maclay, for my less than respectful-"

"You don't need to apologize, Willow, and just call me Tara. It has b-been n-nice to s-s-simply speak t-to someone a-as a f-f-friend." Tara sighed heavily and lowered her head, blonde tresses of hair falling from where they had previously been tucked behind her ears. Willow watched and bit her tongue in order to make herself be silent while her mind was processing their situation, Tara's words, and how awfully lonely she sounded. There was no confidence in her posture nor in her tone of voice, and those facts saddened Willow vastly. If the tales of what she had heard about Lord Maclay was true and corroborated the actions she had seen him take that night, then she would give her an option that kept her from having to return to such a man.

"Well, Tara, I don't know what kind of curse you had placed on you, but I do know that people will use it to take advantage of you if you aren't careful. So, I have an idea if you're willing to negotiate." Now no longer hurting from the sting of magic, Willow sat up and folded her hands in her lap. "I am familiar with these lands and most cities, so I know all of the safe places to go if that curse sends you tumbling again. With help from that flea-bitten beast over there, I can always get you to safety at night. Now, I need help during the day to make sure that I don't get taken advantage of either. Anyone could decide to pick my pockets and steal what coin I've earned. Then there is the chance that I don't find a good enough shaded place. I could be exposed to the sun, then I no longer exist."

Tara seemed to understand exactly what Willow was offering and nodded her head. "So in more simplified terms, I will protect you from brigands and the sun while you will protect me at night from the same perils?"

"Exactly. Do we have a deal?"

Tara had always dreamed of being caught up in an adventure that took her far from the walls of her father's keep. Never in those dreams to she imagine it would be something like this. She had often dreamed of having a companion assisting her on her quest, but it had always been a handsome, strapping knight or a homely but kind prince in disguise. It was far from her current companion, an energetic, wild-eyed, and quick-tongued girl who managed to bring some sunshine in Tara's world even if Willow was allergic to it. Whether this adventure would live up to her dreams, Tara would eventually find out. For now, she had a decision to make. She could go back to her father's keep where food, shelter, and safety from strangers would never be in question. Though he was cruel, he was no crueler than those brigands that existed in the world outside of those stone walls. Tara could also accept Willow's offer and run untamed with her to wherever their adventures should take them. At every turn and every moment there would be danger from those wishing them ill as well as from the curses placed upon them, the effects of Tara's still being unknown to either girl. She would be free, however, and in the company of someone who she couldn't help but find endearing.

"I accept those conditions."

She reached out her hand just like Willow had, a lop-sided smile curling on her light pink lips. Willow grinned impishly and accepted the offered hand, glad that this time she didn't get a surge of magic at Tara's touch. At least, magic of the pain-filled kind. When their quest ends and they look back upon that day, neither Tara nor Willow would doubt that there was magic.


	3. Chapter 3

Tara was careful to pull the curtain fully closed once she stepped out of the den that was going to be shared by herself and Willow. Now that she had made the agreement with Willow to protect her from harm during the daylight hours, she was much more careful when moving around while the sun was above the horizon. Once she was sure that no sunlight would slip into the den, she turned toward the lake. When she did so, she was greeted with the sight of her mare waiting patiently there for her. Joy filled Tara, and she raced to the horse's side. "Phaydra!" she exclaimed, her arms looping around the horse's neck in an embrace. The horse rested her head against Tara's back as if mimicking Tara's gesture. "I'm so sorry; I was so caught up with Willow that I forgot to ask where you were! Were you hurt in any way?" she asked as she began to check the mare for injuries. None were to be found, this task made easier by Phaydra's solid white coat. It was unusual in its brilliance, especially since the mare should have been covered in dirt after traveling with Willow and lying in the dirt outside of the den. Even the mare's mane was unblemished and as white as the petals of a Maiden's Hope.

"Are you really that excited to see that thing?" Willow asked from her safe place in the den. Tara continued to pet Phaydra, but turned to face the direction of Willow's voice. A frown formed on her lips at the tone of Willow's voice.

"Of course I am pleased to see Phaydra well; she has been my only friend since my mother passed away. What have you against her?"

A sound that resembled a scoff was the reply to this question. "Surely you jest! Ponies are vile, vile creatures that plot the doom of all who dare to work with them. When you aren't paying attention then they will snatch up your arm!"

Tara strove to not laugh outright at her new friend. The suggestion she made was ludicrous, but her voice sounded so ardent and certain. "Phaydra isn't a pony, Willow, she's a horse."

"She's a pony with a growth spell on her. They use their bigger size to lull you into a false sense of security."

Tara could no longer hold in her laughter, the sound light and airy as well as far overdue. She hadn't laughed like that in many years, which was evident by how quickly she found herself struggling to regain her breath. "Oh my!" Once able to breathe easier, she walked back to the den that she shared with Willow. Carefully, she stepped inside and pulled the curtain closed to keep out the sunlight. Her previous intentions to draw water for a bath were brushed aside so that she could try to ease her friend's obvious fears over horses and make sure that her feelings were not truly hurt. The expression she was greeted with was a displeased pout.

"I'm sorry, Willow, I didn't mean to laugh at you. Horses really aren't that bad. They don't even like the taste of arm."

"I'm still not so sure of that."

"How many horses have you been around, Willow?"

"My parents used a pony for pulling the carts with the barrels of wine, ale, and spirits." Willow shuddered and rubbed her arm where the foul-tempered beast had bitten her the first time she had been curious about the animal. "I knew enough after that to not deal with horses."

"Well that was a pony, Willow, not a horse. You worked with Phaydra to get me here, right? You should try riding her sometime." At the fear Tara saw in Willow's eyes, she reached her hand out and placed it on Willow's to give it a reassuring squeeze. "I'll ride with you so you won't fall off. Once we get these curses lifted, we'll ride together."

Willow hesitated but found that she had little resistance left when Tara offered her such reassurance. If Tara was with her, then she was sure that the other woman would keep her safe…even from a horse. A smile lit her lips, and Willow nodded her head. "After we get them lifted, I promise we'll go ride. I'd like to show you some of my favorite places to go at night, and they would be quicker to get to by horse, I suppose."

Quite happy with the promise now made with such hope that finding a cure wouldn't be so difficult, Tara returned Willow's grin with a lop-sided smile of her own. "Great, I'd love to see it. I never really left the keep other than when my father bade me travel with him to see other nobility."

"Then you'll need to learn a few things as we go to a few cities. The first thing we need to do is get you changed. Those clothes scream 'Lady' and that only invites trouble." Willow returned to what she had been doing before she and Tara had their discussion regarding equines. She wasn't really finding anything that would be suitable for Tara to wear since the other young woman was taller and more well-endowed than Willow's dancer's body. "I don't know if any of my shirts will even fit you, and I know that my trousers will be too short. Perhaps you could try them on and see? If they don't fit then we could try covering up your dress with one of my cloaks, I suppose?"

Tara wasn't sure that they would fit well either, but she didn't see anything wrong with Willow's suggestions to try. They would have to figure something out to make them less conspicuous on their travels into various villages and cities. Especially since they hadn't even sat down to figure out how in the world they would get to these places when one of them was incapable of being outside during the day while the other dropped into a death-like slumber once the sun dipped beneath the horizon.

"I think that these are the longest pair that I have, and this is the largest shirt." Willow held them out to Tara. Tara accepted them, deciding to try them on after she had finished her original task of drawing water for a bath.

"Pardon, Willow, but where is your basin?" When the redhead pointed behind her, Tara frowned. This cave certainly offered privacy enough for one occupant, but not two.

Noting her obvious displeasure, Willow shrugged. "I can't step out since its light outside, and you'd have much less privacy outside. Unless your horse can be a guard dog for you," she added with a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Tara, as a lady of noble lineage, often had ladies who helped dress her since her dresses were too complicated for one person to put on. Those ladies she had known most of her life, however, and weren't around when she was bathing. This is foolish, she thought to herself, Willow is also a woman even if she dresses like a man. There is nothing I should be so nervous about.

Willow could see how troubled Tara was and decided to try to ease her discomfort. "I'll have my back turned the entire time, and I'll talk so that you know where I am at all times." After even one conversation with Willow, she was sure that Willow could manage to speak for over a candle mark with only one stop for breath. Her ability to say so many words without taking a break was a remarkable feat even if there was little practical use for it.

Tara decided that was the best idea that would work and as close as she could get to being comfortable, so she agreed. Getting a bucket, she went back to the stream to retrieve water. As she retrieved the water and brought it back to the cave, she hummed a tune to herself. While she was humming, several birds flew down from their nests in the trees to draw closer to her and to twitter in response to her song. Tara noticed the birds and smiled brightly, delighted by the sudden and unexpected accompaniment. Careful to not let sunlight in to the cave, she ceased humming and went to task to start her bath. At first Willow was confused as to why Tara was staring at her expectantly.

"Oh! Right. Sorry," the sheepish and blushing redhead managed to spit out. She turned her back to where Tara was bathing. Willow slid her hands in her pockets, silent as she pondered the touch of magic that she had sensed.

"W-Willow, y-you said that you'd t-talk. I-Is something wrong?" That accursed stammer had returned because Tara was nervous about the sudden silence that had fallen over her usually verbose new friend.

Wincing, Willow realized her pondering had unnerved Tara. "Yes, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to go back on my word that I would talk, but I was curious about this magical energy I just felt. There aren't any mages around here that I know of, well, except the one that accidentally cursed you. And I don't think that she'd come back since she, you know, thinks that I'm one of the Night Stalkers. So that means that someone else had to have done a small enchantment or something, but it didn't feel dark or evil so maybe I'm over thinking it. We're the only ones around, other than your horse. Ah ha! That's it! It was the horse! I knew horses were ev-.."

"Whoa, Willow!" the blonde interjected to stop the redhead from working even further into a frenzy. "Calm down and take a breath." Tara paused both to give Willow time to take a breath and for herself to get dressed. "I don't think my horse is a dark mage in disguise. There was no one outside when I was out there collecting water, just a few birds. Besides, how do you know it was magic?" As she explained these things to Willow, Tara kept her voice as calm and soothing as she could. The redhead seemed easily excitable, like a puppy. One could have considered the tone she used to be condescending, but luckily for her, Willow didn't seem to take offense. Instead, the redhead was taking deep calming breaths with her back still to Tara. Tara took the few steps needed and tapped the redhead's shoulder. "I'm already dressed, Willow. You can turn around now.

Willow turned around to face Tara, her head tilting to the side when she saw that Tara was wearing her dress again rather than the clothing she had offered the blonde. "Your trousers were too small for me; I couldn't just go around in the shirt so I put the dress back on. Can you fasten the back for me?"

After receiving the petite redhead's nod, Tara turned around to let Willow begin lacing the back of her dress. She listened as the less nervous redhead began to explain her knowledge of magic. "I knew it was magic because I have been working with it for a long time. I was born unable to step into the sunlight, a curse having been laid upon me for some unknown reason. Now that I stop and think about it, the magic I sensed wasn't like the magic I've learned to cast or have seen cast around me. It was…lighter and pure. I just felt it for a few moments, but it was amazing."

This talk of magic was making Tara exceedlingly nervous. Her family was of nobility in the kingdom of Rethwellen, and as such they were religious folk. Her father was, at least. He had spoken often of how magic brought about ruin to all those that practiced it. Willow didn't seem to be of the same mind, but she didn't know the redhead all that well. It would be for the best if she didn't let Willow know just where that magic had come from, or that she was even able to sense such things. Her best plan of action was to see if she could get Willow's mind off of that subject. "Maybe we will encounter it again. Since you aren't sensing it anymore, we should focus on the task at hand. How are we going to get to the town that you mentioned?"

Curiosity about the magic she sensed gnawed at Willow, but she knew that Tara was right. They had to deal with the situation at hand rather than chase after the source of the magic that seemed to have left just as quickly as Willow had sensed it. "We'll pack everything and wait until dusk. You'll go ahead and get on the horse before the sun sets. Once it does, I'll take us to the nearest town where I have some friends who might be of some help outfitting us and directing us to someone who can give us more answers."

Tara knew it was a rather sound plan, but there was still a problem that could arise. "What if we don't get there before dawn?"

Willow shrugged her shoulders. "At least I would get to the sunrise, if for a heartbeat. It is a chance we have to take, Tara. I've been traveling like this for some time; the risk is worth the reward. Just trust me."

Tara peered into the smaller woman's green eyes, finding some fear but most of all, she found courage and determination. Willow was risking her life to help Tara get to this town and to help her find a cure for her enchantment. The least Tara could do was have faith in her. Having faith in a stranger was difficult to do. She had learned not to trust her father, her brother, or even the servants employed by her father. Still, there was something just so honest about Willow that the words slipped from her lips before she even realized it.

"I do."

Although she hadn't planned to say the pair of words, she couldn't smother the smile that curled on her lips when Willow grinned at her. The pair remained standing and smiling at one another for a few more moments, and then together they started to organize the packs so that they would be ready to spring into action when the sun started to dip below the horizon.


End file.
